The King - S.R. Jones Page 0,96

Andrius says. “This child is innocent. You cannot kill it before it is born. It would be a terrible crime.”

“Fine. Bring her here, let her have the kid, then kill her.”

“Are you fucking insane?” Konstantin asks. I think he’s asking because he thinks the plan is evil, but his next words disabuse me of any such romantic notion. “I’m not having that cunt under my roof for another six weeks, and I’m not bringing her spawn up. Now stop discussing this in front of Cassie, and let’s go to the study.”

I ignore him, acting as if the little lady can’t hear anything too sensitive, and focus on what he’s said about Liza. “Konstantin, you can’t kill her.” I want to cry. If he does this it will stain his soul forever.

“I’m not going to kill her,” he says with a soft laugh. “I’m going to do something much worse.”

“What?” Vasily demands.

“I’m going to ruin her reputation, her career, and her life, and then I’ll set her and the kid up with a fund, but it will only be enough for her to live a very modest life. A small home, maybe an end row house, with a tiny yard, and enough money for her to feed and clothe the kid, and I shall make sure she’s watched, and if she spends that shit on herself, she’s dead. Liza is going to become the thing she’s always feared.”

“What’s she always feared?” I ask.

“Being ordinary,” Konstantin says with a shrug. “She craves fame and excitement; she won’t be able to cope with the sort of life most people would enjoy.”

“It’s not enough.” Vasily’s hard face is set like stone.

“I’m going to make her live a small, ordinary life, and if she deviates from it, she’s fucking dead.”

“I still think you should kill her,” Vasily says.

“As entertaining as this discussion is, I have to go see Allyov.” Andrius checks his watch, grabs some car keys from the kitchen side and pockets them. “We will discuss this all later, particularly the killing Popov part, yes? Now, I must see Allyov, fucking damn it. I don’t think he’s going to be onboard with us approaching the Armenians,” he says to Konstantin, and I have no idea what he means. “When I get back, we can talk about our options, but I think the Armenians will shoot Allyov before they talk to him, and as for me…” He laughs darkly. “Yes, they will not want anything to do with me.”

“Give Allyov my regards,” Konstantin says, and Andrius replies in Russian, with words I don’t understand, then he’s gone.

I know better than to ask what it was all about. I don’t think the Bratva, which I am now ninety percent convinced these men are, discuss their business plans with women.

Old fashioned, deadly, but with a deep honor code running through their marrow, the Bratva, from what I understand, are a brotherhood like no other. It won’t pay for me to show too much interest in their affairs, so I keep my mouth shut.

I spend the rest of the day mildly bored and very horny. I want Konstantin, but he’s busy planning and plotting, yet again with Vasily.

I could go for a walk, but I’m not sure how safe it is out there. There are men with guns, the three Konstantin hired, stalking around the perimeter of the house, the guard dogs, and the electric fence, none of which is conducive to a pleasant stroll. Anyway, I don’t want to be that girl, the one from all the horror flicks I watch who wanders out into the woods and gets caught by the monster.

Nope. I’m staying inside and playing it safe.

Funny thing is, they don’t tell you that if the monster really wants to find you, it will, even if it must come for you.

Late that evening, I hear a commotion downstairs. I’m wearing a loose dress and am about to grab a shower before hopefully repeating last night’s fun and games with Konstantin. I head out of my room to see what’s causing the shouting downstairs.

Vasily is yelling something in Russian, and when I get to the top of the stairs, I freeze. The door is wide open, and there are what look like ten men with guns. Maybe more. So many men. So many guns.

They fire off two shots in quick succession, and Vasily hits the ground. Half out of the kitchen door, bleeding, is Derek. I scream, and then real terror hits because amongst the